<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Healing: Picture-Frame-Worthy by isiac</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338122">Healing: Picture-Frame-Worthy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/isiac/pseuds/isiac'>isiac</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Banter, Bittersweet, Canon-Typical Violence, Caretaker Nines, Deep Conversations, Fluff, Gavin Reed Whump, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Healing, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, References to Drugs, References to Shakespeare, Shakespeare Quotations, Sickfic, Stakeout, kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:08:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27338122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/isiac/pseuds/isiac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin wasn't sure why he'd just brought up his sexuality, to be exact, but it'd sort of slipped out.</p><p>Things like that slip out all the time, right?</p><p>Sure, they do.</p><p>Gavin was sure about it.</p><p>-----</p><p>Or the story in which Gavin gets hurt saving Nines, so the android takes it upon himself to nurse his human colleague back to health. (Also, Gavin has an English degree in this, and he's a sucker for Shakespeare.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reed900 Reverse Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Healing: Picture-Frame-Worthy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm so happy to finally share this piece! It's been a while since I posted any DBH content, so I'm glad I'm making a comeback with Reed900 content.</p><p>I got to write this piece based off of Shae's lovely art! (The piece is embedded in the work below.)</p><p>|<a href="https://shae-c-art.tumblr.com/">You can find her on Tumblr here!</a>|</p><p>Enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<hr/><p>Let me not to the marriage of true minds</p><p>Admit impediments. Love is not love</p><p>Which alters when it alteration finds,</p><p>Or bends with the remover to remove.</p><p>— Shakespeare, <em>Sonnet 116</em> (1-4)</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>“Gavin?”</p><p>The detective in question blinked and then groaned as he came to.</p><p>The first thing Gavin noticed was the android currently crouching in front of him, right where his rolling chair had been.</p><p>A few months after the android revolution, Nines, previously known as RK900 #313 248 317 - 87, had been hired by the precinct (as per Hank and Connor’s request). And alongside Connor, Nines had taken up residency at Hank’s house. Gavin had always thought it was ironic because Hank had been so against androids just a year ago, and now, he had two living with him, basically taking care of him.</p><p>Gavin had always been surprised by just how well Nines had assimilated to human society, but, after all, he was the successor to Connor, so he’d been created with even more delicate and intricate programming. And ever since the android revolution ended, tech startups had been freelancing android updates for more normal but nuanced social interactions, and Nines, much to Gavin’s dismay, had gone for a more biting, sarcastic personality.</p><p>The android had half a mind to keep things classy and professional in the workplace, but there were moments when Gavin wished Nines was still an obedient, quiet piece of plastic.</p><p>“Did you sleep under your desk?”</p><p>
  <em>Like right now, for example.</em>
</p><p>Gavin groaned again, forcing his eyes even more open than before.</p><p>The second thing he noticed was that the precinct wasn’t as bright as it should’ve been, meaning either one of two things: it was early, or there’d been a power outage.</p><p>And knowing Nines and his inhumanly perfect schedule, it was probably just early.</p><p>“Yes,” Gavin grumbled, “I slept under my desk. And what about it?” The detective rose, and before he could even blink, Nines shot out his hand, cushioning Gavin’s skull from hitting the underside of his desk. Regardless, the action made a loud bang; Gavin jerked back, feeling embarrassed.</p><p>“Really?” Nines teased him, smirking. “You can’t be trying to concuss yourself this early in the morning, detective. I’m not even clocked in yet.”</p><p>“Shut. Up.” Gavin kept his gaze lowered as he crawled out from under his desk. Nines offered to help him stand, but Gavin did so by himself. When he was finally upright, he held his hands together and stretched them over his head, sighing when his shoulders popped. <em>“Fuck.</em> That felt good.”</p><p>Nines gave him a dubious look. “I’m sure you would’ve felt better if you’d slept on a mattress. And not on the floor.” At Gavin’s glare, the android added, “But that’s just my opinion. And you technically <em>don’t</em> have to heed a supercomputer’s advice.”</p><p>“Supercomputer my ass,” Gavin said with a short laugh. “More like a super <em>annoying</em> computer.”</p><p>The android leaned against the desk space adjacent to Gavin’s computer. “Why didn’t you just sleep at your apartment?” He asked, rolling his flannel sleeves up. “Did you get evicted or something?”</p><p><em>“What?</em> No,” Gavin said. He dusted off his leather jacket and the hoodie he wore under it. “My neighbors just— They argue a lot. And when I got back, they were arguin’, and their arguments almost always end in sex. And I wasn’t about to listen to their shitty soap opera for the next twelve hours, so I came back here to sleep. You got a problem with that?”</p><p>It was only a half-lie, technically.</p><p>If Gavin hadn’t been a light sleeper prone to vicious nightmares of his alcoholic, abusive father, then he would’ve listened to ASMR and called it a night. Alas, he’d tried that before, and it’d only resulted in a weird, semi-awake panic attack in which the arguing and consequent sex had transported him back to his childhood, and he hadn’t liked that very much.</p><p>“No, of course not,” Nines said, eyes widening marginally. He raised his hands in surrender. “I feel bad.”</p><p>Gavin shuffled through the things on his desk until he found his goldfish, and then he threw a few into his mouth. He started toward the breakroom to make some coffee, and Nines trailed after him.</p><p>“You can always move in with me if you want, Gavin.”</p><p>As he processed Nines’s words, Gavin nearly tripped over his own feet. “I’m sorry, what?” He turned around to face the android, eyes as wide as saucers. “You can’t just— People don’t just— <em>Huh?”</em></p><p>“Yeah,” Nines said, smiling. “I have a spare room.”</p><p>Gavin shook his head as he walked backward, hands in his pockets. “I thought you lived with Hank and Connor.”</p><p>“I <em>did.</em> I got my own place a week ago,” Nines said cheerily. “While staying at Hank’s, I saved up a decent amount of money. That, and I invested in stocks.” At Gavin’s pointed look, Nines added, “Of course, <em>before</em> it was illegal for androids to use our programming to invest. It made a lot of people upset. Rich people, to be exact.”</p><p>Gavin gave himself a few seconds to think of an appropriate response. He was happy for the android, in a weird way, but he was also jealous. If, after having heard about Gavin’s living situation, Nines offered for him to move in, then it meant he lived somewhere quiet, and Gavin could only dream of something like that.</p><p>And not only that — Gavin was surprised by how easily Nines had offered up something like moving in together, especially because they barely knew each other. Sure, they’d been partners on the force for a few months now, and, sure, Gavin had learned how to tolerate androids, but— The human detective shook his head, still too tired to process anything accurately.</p><p>“You seem . . . upset with my offer,” Nines said, leaning against the counter. Gavin got to work, setting up the coffee machine. “Are you insulted by it? Am I unknowingly engaging in some social taboo? Because in all the sitcoms I’ve watched at Hank’s, it’s normal for best friends to live with each other.”</p><p>“That’s not— No,” Gavin said, waving a hand. “I’m not insulted, Nines. I — I was just surprised, is all.” He took the coffee pot out and then filled it up with water.</p><p>“Surprised,” Nines echoed. And then, after a pause, the android said, “Ah. You don’t see me as a close enough friend. To live with, that is.”</p><p>“No, that’s not—” Gavin stopped with himself with a small growl of frustration. He turned off the sink and then poured the water into the machine. “I was just surprised, okay? That’s all there is to it. And I just woke up. What I’m saying right now isn’t that deep, trust me.”</p><p>Nines chuckled, and when Gavin glanced up at him, the android was pursing his lips in thought.</p><p>It was such a human expression — Gavin had to take a moment to remember that Nines and other androids alike had been downloading more complex, natural expressions for a while now, that these expressions made it increasingly difficult to separate androids from humans.</p><p>And while Gavin wasn’t purposefully trying to separate them, it felt weird to him — that they were becoming so similar, were blurring this . . . <em>invisible line.</em></p><p>Gavin sighed as he slotted the coffee pot back into the machine. He put in some coffee grinds and then started it, listening to it as it whirred to life.</p><p>“Okay, then,” Nines said, nonplussed. “I’ll just take your word for it, detective.”</p><p>When Gavin peeked at the android, he was more than a little relieved to see that he’d been unbothered by Gavin’s earlier word vomit.</p><p>Gavin didn’t have a natural way with words, and he knew this because he’d fucked up multiple relationships by saying the wrong thing — but it never seemed to matter what he said to Nines. The android somehow understood Gavin and got what he was saying, regardless of if he’d actually said it or not.</p><p>Gavin didn’t really know how it worked, but he was thankful for the android’s programming — it made his life a whole lot easier.</p><p>“Wow, you’re both up early!”</p><p>Nines focused on someone over Gavin’s shoulder, and when the human turned around, he saw his best friend, Tina. She sauntered over to them, eating a frosted donut.</p><p>“Hey, Tina,” Gavin said, waving lamely.</p><p>“Good morning, Tina,” Nines said, probably smiling.</p><p>Gavin rolled his eyes at the thought.</p><p>But sometimes, he wished he could muster up energy like androids did to be that cheery this early in the morning.</p><p>“Hey-o,” she said, saluting them sarcastically. She leaned against the counter in front of Gavin, still eating her donut. “So, Gav. Listen. Me and my wife—”</p><p>Gavin snorted. “Y’know, T, you can just call her by her first name. Miriro.”</p><p>“Hey, I like the way ‘my wife’ sounds,” Tina said, beaming. Clearly, nothing could put a damper on her good mood. “Anyway, as you already know, my wife and I have been looking for a cute gay bar to frequent, and we think we finally found the right one. However, it’s a little nerdy, but a little nerdy never killed nobody!”</p><p>“Please get to the point,” Gavin said, licking his teeth.</p><p>Tina rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they do these trivia nights, and the owners told us it’s the easiest way to meet people, to make friends. And there’s this . . . trivia night this weekend, so Miriro and I wanna go, but it’s about British literature and Shakespeare, so we thought you could—”</p><p>“Nope,” Gavin said, cutting her off. “No way in hell.”</p><p>“Aw, come on,” Tina pleaded. She shoved the rest of her donut into her mouth so she could clasp her hands together. “You can finally put your second undergraduate degree to use. Please?”</p><p>“Tina, <em>shut up,”</em> Gavin growled. He tried to swat at her, but she’d already jumped away. “I don’t— No. I’m not doing <em>Shakespeare trivia night</em> with you and Miriro. You can easily Sparknote some shit before you go in, ‘kay? It shouldn’t be that hard.”</p><p>“You have an English degree?” Nines asked, sounding surprised. “I didn’t peg you as a man of literature, Gavin.”</p><p>Gavin sighed long and hard, glaring between Tina and his partner.</p><p>“No means <em>no,”</em> he said, waving a hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need my hot bean juice to get through the rest of today.”</p><p>Tina pouted. “But— <em>Gaaav!”</em></p><p>“No,” he said, raising his brows at her. “For fuck’s sake.”</p><p>“Ugh, fuck you,” Tina grumbled as she turned and left.</p><p>As Gavin made himself a cup of coffee, he kept his gaze lowered. It wasn’t until he was finally done and sipping on his delicious concoction that he allowed himself to look up at Nines.</p><p>For the most part, the android looked annoyed and unimpressed, but under the crossed arms and narrowed eyes, he was intrigued. Gavin had seen this look in Nines’s eyes before, and it’d never meant anything good.</p><p>“What?” Gavin grumped. “You’re lookin’ at me weird.”</p><p>“You were into Shakespeare?” Nines asked, cocking his head to the side. “That’s so—”</p><p>“—weird. I know.”</p><p>“I was <em>going</em> to say ‘fascinating,’” Nines said, uncrossing his arms. “I like learning new things about you, detective.”</p><p>Gavin almost gagged at the sentiment behind the android’s words. Instead, he forced himself to chug his coffee. “Anyway. I got Fowler to approve a stakeout. Before I went to sleep last night, that is.”</p><p>The android’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s great, Gavin. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”</p><p>“Because we can’t start it until <em>much</em> later,” Gavin said, glancing across the precinct. The windows revealed the slowly brightening city.</p><p>“Regardless, I’ll go get our things organized,” Nines said, walking off. “You can never be too prepared!”</p><p>Gavin wanted to roll his eyes but didn’t. He knew that the android liked being busy, and because he was still waking up, he didn’t want to do anything — besides drink his coffee and take his morning shit.</p><p>A few months ago, he and Nines had gotten involved in a minor drug case that had led to a bigger one, all the way to Michael de la Cruz, a notorious drug dealer from Canada. Technically, Michael belonged to the FBI and Canadian authorities, but Gavin and Nines had been allowed to gather intel and do surveillance.</p><p>Word on the streets was that Michael was transporting a drug across the border that would destabilize androids and, essentially, shut them down. And the drug easily blended into thirium-based drinks, so if it got into a bigger market, it could be bad news for androids across the country — and eventually, the world.</p><p>Gavin knew that it wasn’t his place to make big busts when it came to Michael, but if tonight’s stakeout proved to be successful in terms of gathering information, Fowler might pull some strings for him and Nines to work with higher-ups on Michael’s case. It was a stretch, but Gavin was optimistic, and even though he’d slept on the floor last night, he was feeling good about life.</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>O no! [love] is an ever-fixed mark</p><p>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;</p><p>It is the star to every wand’ring bark,</p><p>Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.</p><p>— (5-8)</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>As the day dragged on, the universe just had to prove Gavin wrong.</p><p>Because it always did, apparently.</p><p>No matter how many Advil he’d taken, his lower back still ached like a bitch, so when he finally got into the surveillance car with Nines, he exhaled a sigh of relief.</p><p>Usually, Gavin wouldn’t let the android drive because he liked driving to distract himself, but right then, the human detective was in a bit of pain.</p><p>“I told you,” Nines sang as he started the car.</p><p>Gavin didn’t need to look at the android to know that he was smirking. “Can it. For once, I’m glad we’re on surveillance that doesn’t involve us doing shit.”</p><p>“What if we have ‘to do shit?’” Nines asked, air-quoting Gavin.</p><p>“We won’t,” his partner said. “We definitely won’t have to.”</p><p>Nines hummed, unconvinced, and then he pulled the car out of the parking garage and started toward downtown Detroit. They were doing surveillance in the parking lot of Mint Condition, a club that Michael de la Cruz had been doing business out of for a while now — the issue, however, was that the feds had never spotted him there in person.</p><p>“Look,” Gavin started, putting his seat back, “the only way we’d have to do something is if they catch us. And they won’t ‘cause we’ll be in the back, basically across the road.”</p><p>“Okay, well . . .” Nines trailed off. Gavin got comfortable in his two jackets, pulling the fabric over his neck. “We can stop somewhere for coffee?”</p><p>“Oh, fuck yeah,” Gavin said, grinning. “That sounds amazing.”</p><p>Even though Halloween was only a few days away, Gavin ordered a peppermint mocha latte with an extra shot of espresso. And as Nines reverse parked into a spot behind Mint Condition, the clock struck ten. Gavin settled into the passenger seat and then brought up a leg, resting his converse-clad foot against the dashboard.</p><p>Nines glanced at it but didn’t say anything.</p><p>“Y’know,” Gavin said, eyeing the android, “you can put your seat back and relax. We’re just doing surveillance.”</p><p>“I have to be prepared to take pictures,” Nines said. “I’d rather stay sitting up.”</p><p>Gavin sighed and then sipped on his coffee.</p><p>“You, however, definitely need to rest,” Nines said, giving his human partner a pointed looked. “You slept on the floor, Gavin. And at your age, your body won’t bounce back like it used to.”</p><p>Gavin spluttered. “Excuse you! I’m thirty-six, not fifty.”</p><p>“Technically, you’re closer to fifty than you are to twenty.”</p><p>Gavin bristled and then opened his mouth to yell at the android, but his partner tipped his cup back, forcing him to drink his coffee.</p><p>“I know we’re parked back here,” Nines said, “but please try to keep your voice down, detective.”</p><p>Gavin wondered if the android understood the innuendo, and—</p><p>Yup.</p><p>He was smirking about it.</p><p>“Piece of shit,” Gavin grumbled as he continued to drink his coffee. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, ‘kay? Don’t be sayin’ weird shit like that.”</p><p>“Like what? Oh, my innuendo? I’m glad you caught on. As partners, we should have friendly banter more often.”</p><p>Something in Gavin’s chest clenched. He wanted to describe the feeling as anger because that was all he ever felt there, but this felt fragile. Warm. Foreign.</p><p>But Gavin refused to call it anything but annoyance because that’s all it was, to be honest. He was just annoyed with the android. That was it.</p><p>Gavin knew himself better than his racing thoughts — he did.</p><p>He definitely did.</p><p>The human detective gulped as he glanced at his partner, and when Gavin saw Nines looking at him, waiting for an answer, his mouth went dry.</p><p>“What?” Gavin quipped. “What’re you lookin’ at?”</p><p>Nines looked him over with a small smile.</p><p>Gavin didn’t like that look. Not one bit.</p><p>“You, who else?” the android asked, raising a brow.</p><p>For some reason, his soft tone made Gavin’s breath hitch. He thought his body was going into fight or flight mode because he was getting pissed off — Nines was pissing him off on purpose, though, right?</p><p>He had to be.</p><p>When Gavin finally found his voice, he asked, “Well . . . Why?”</p><p>“Well, why wouldn’t I?” Nines asked, cocking his head to the side. When he blinked and finally looked away from his human partner, Gavin felt like finally, he could move, so he sat up and then put his leg down. “Did you know that humans look at the things they like because it’s an instinct?” The android didn’t wait for Gavin to respond. “I used to think it was a silly instinct because, well, who’d waste their time looking at something they like when they can just commit to memory? But then I remembered that humans don’t work the way we do. They enjoy looking at things for as long as possible because, over time, it’s possible to forget the face of a loved one. Or the way the sky looked on a special night.”</p><p>Gavin laughed nervously. “What, did Tina get you into slam poetry or something?”</p><p>Nines blinked. “What? What do you mean?”</p><p>Gavin didn’t respond; he waited for Nines to Google it.</p><p>“Oh,” Nines said. “Slam poetry. Well . . . No. I’m not into ‘slam poetry,’ but thank you for thinking I sounded poetic. I hadn’t installed any of the poetry downloads yet, but I’d been looking forward to them. Do you think I have a knack for it? Like this Shakespeare that you’ve studied?”</p><p>Gavin scoffed from behind his coffee cup. “Let’s not talk about Shakespeare. I’d rather be drunk for that.”</p><p>“You’d rather be drunk for a lot of things.”</p><p>Gavin rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Look,” Gavin said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I studied Shakespeare in college, but that wasn’t all. It was just part of my English degree. And just so we’re clear, I don’t like talkin’ about it because people teased me for it. Kind of like, um, my sexuality. ‘Cause I’m pan.”</p><p>Gavin forced himself to keep his gaze forward because he felt his ears burning. He knew the android could probably pick up that his heart rate had just skyrocketed into a very queer panic, but Gavin banked on the android being polite enough to not mention it. He wasn’t sure why he’d just brought up his sexuality, to be exact, but it’d sort of slipped out.</p><p>Things like that slip out all the time, right?</p><p>Sure, they do.</p><p>Gavin was sure about it.</p><p>“You are . . . a pan?” Nines asked, sounding confused. Gavin waited for him to Google it, and then, “Ah. You’re pansexual. That’s . . . interesting.”</p><p>Gavin would’ve <em>loved</em> to have figured out what Nines meant by ‘interesting,’ but right then, three men exited the back of Mint Condition. Gavin was about to tell Nines to take their picture, but one of them pointed at their car.</p><p>Gavin’s breath caught. “Motherfucker,” he spat, slamming his coffee into the holder. “Nines, we gotta do somethin’—”</p><p>“On it,” the android said, starting the car.</p><p>Fowler had permitted them to involve themselves if something went awry, and things had definitely just gone way past ‘awry.’</p><p>Gavin opened the glove compartment and loaded his gun right as Nines stepped on the gas. The men quickly dispersed; one jumped into a nearby, idling car, and then it drove off.</p><p>“There’s no use in a wild goose chase, so pull over,” Gavin said. “Let’s arrest a few suspects inside. We can’t let this be a total bust ‘cause then Fowler’s gonna be <em>so</em> fuckin’ pissed.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Nines said, slamming on the breaks. “I called for backup. They should be here in a few minutes. Let’s take control of the situation inside and then arrest some of Michael’s associates.”</p><p>Gavin nodded.</p><p>Nines grabbed his gun, and together, they ran in the back door that’d been left open. They heard voices down the dark hallway.</p><p>
  <em>“Use the gun!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What if it doesn’t work? It’s a prototype!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t give a fuck! Just get rid of that fuckin’ android!”</em>
</p><p>As someone peeked around the corner with a neon gun, Gavin put the pieces together. Whatever was in the bullets of that gun . . . It must’ve been the drug Michael had been shopping around, the one that could quite literally obliterate an android’s memory. Gavin lunged and pushed Nines away right as the gun went off, and for some reason, Gavin thought a bullet meant for an android would hurt less.</p><p>He was very, <em>very</em> wrong.</p><p>It landed in his chest with a thud that propelled him backward, and as Nines dragged him back down the hall, Gavin got shot in the left shin. He wanted to scream, but it hurt so bad that he couldn’t even find his voice.</p><p>“Gavin, stay with me!” Nines shouted. He closed the back door and then locked it shut.</p><p>They were back by their car, and the pavement, which should’ve felt cold under Gavin’s back, felt warm.</p><p>“Gavin!”</p><p>Gavin groaned and then hissed in pain as the android lifted his clothes. He pulled the bullet out of Gavin’s shin and then the one in his chest — that one hurt like a <em>bitch.</em> Gavin was about to protest, to say that the bullets should’ve stayed where they were.</p><p>But he knew he was in the care of a supercomputer, so he stared up at the cold night sky and thought, <em>Fuck. I’m gonna die, and the last fuckin’ thing I’ll ever fuckin’ be aware of is the taste of that fuckin’ overpriced peppermint mocha latte.</em></p><hr/><p>The days in the hospital went by painstakingly slow. And on the last day, the third day, which wasn’t even a lot, the nurse was ready to discharge Gavin.</p><p>“Alright,” she said, looking over his papers. “So you do understand, Mr. Reed, that you were shot twice. And by bullets that’re meant for androids, so . . . they broke three of your ribs and then your left fibula. You underwent a few ortho surgeries to get them all fixed up, so you should schedule some physical therapy in about two months. <em>After</em> you rest.”</p><p>The stern look the nurse gave Gavin <em>almost</em> made him shudder. “Yes, ma’am.”</p><p>“Perfect,” she said, scrolling through the tablet. “Other than that, we emailed your caretaker specific instructions. You should be good to go, Mr. Reed.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, my what now?”</p><p>“Your caretaker.”</p><p>Gavin was about to ask just <em>who</em> his caretaker was — but Nines walked into the room and then waved.</p><p>“Hi, sorry,” he said, glancing down at Gavin in his wheelchair. “I’m usually never late.”</p><p>It was so weird seeing Nines out of work that Gavin didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He watched the android as he talked to the nurse and took mental notes of Gavin’s recovery.</p><p>Gavin reasoned he wouldn’t have been this stupefied if Nines hadn’t looked so goddamn human. He’d come to the hospital in black, skinny jeans and a flannel, and he’d layered his hoodie with a beige jacket, the ones with fluffy stuff on the inside. He was also wearing a beanie, and if anything, it reminded Gavin of Connor.</p><p>Gavin wanted to say something, but his mind was processing too much to come up with an adequate response. For once, he wished he had the brain of an android.</p><p>And then, before Gavin knew it, Nines was wheeling him out of the hospital. “What the hell?” Gavin asked, finally finding his words. “Nines, what the actual fuck? You’re not my <em>caretaker.”</em></p><p>“Well, I’m your emergency contact,” Nines said. “It’s close enough. Besides, why isn’t someone from your family your emergency contact?”</p><p>Gavin just barely kept himself from growling in frustration; any exaggerated emotion irritated his chest, and his chest still hurt like a bitch.</p><p>“Because,” Gavin said, keeping his gaze forward. He couldn’t twist around to look at Nines in his current position. “It’s none of your business, bitch. Besides, I can take care of myself.”</p><p>“Yeah? How were you going to get back to your apartment?”</p><p>“I was gonna call a cab, Nines. Like any <em>normal</em> discharged patient.”</p><p>Nines sighed long and hard. “Really, Gavin? A cab?”</p><p>“Look, I don’t care if you feel guilty or something. You can deal with that in android therapy or some shit. Just leave me be. I’m fine by myself.”</p><p>“I do feel guilty, but only a little,” Nines said honestly, surprising Gavin just a bit. “Besides, I’ve saved up enough money to take some time off, and I’ve never used my vacation days before. So now’s a good time, don’t you think?”</p><p>Gavin sighed, wiping at his face. Nines was pushing him toward his car, and he had yet to ask for Gavin’s address, so it could only mean one thing.</p><p>“You’re not taking me back to my apartment, are you?” Gavin asked. He tilted his head back to look up at the android, and he wasn’t surprised to see the other grinning from ear to ear.</p><p>“Of course not,” Nines said cheerily. “I tried to break into your apartment the other day to get it all cleaned up for you, but you live in such a noisy area. I deemed it non-conducive to your recovery, so I’m taking you back to my place. It’s official.”</p><p>“When I’m back to my prime, I’m kickin’ your plastic ass.”</p><p>“Then I look forward to your speedy recovery, detective.”</p><hr/><p>When Nines pulled up to his place, Gavin took a moment to process just how beautiful it was. “Dude,” he said, “you live in one of those magazine houses.”</p><p>As Nines parked the car and then got out, he asked, “‘Magazine house?’”</p><p>“Y’know,” Gavin said, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “One of those nice houses. Y’know what I’m talkin’ about, dumbass.”</p><p>Nines raised a brow at his partner but then said, “Of course. Anyway, here. Get in the wheelchair, and then I’ll roll you up.”</p><p>With some help from the android, Gavin got into the wheelchair, and then Nines started rolling it up to the front door.</p><p>Gavin had been expecting an apartment, but Nines lived in a spread-out suburban area, so he had this part of the slightly open forest to himself. Space like this was <em>really</em> fucking valuable around the Detroit area, so Gavin mentally tried to calculate how much it’d cost the android — too much, probably.</p><p>When Nines got to the stairs, Gavin started to move, but the android gently told him to stay put. He opened the front door and then, without another word, grabbed the wheelchair with Gavin still in it and then walked him through the front door.</p><p>Gavin had to take a moment to remember that androids possessed inhuman agility and strength, but he came to his senses when he looked around the small but neat foyer. The inside of the house was made of dark and light woods alike, giving off a nice contrast. It was all very outdoorsy and woodsy, and even though Gavin didn’t know Nines all that well, he thought it suited the android.</p><p>“Y’know . . .” Gavin trailed off, wheeling himself forward. “I meant to say this earlier, but you shouldn’t waste your vacation days on me.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t see it as wasting,” Nines said, waving a hand. “I see it as an investment. You’re a top-notch colleague, so I want you to be back on your feet in no time. I may not be a nurse android, but I downloaded several updates on healthcare. Everything should go just right, so don’t you worry.”</p><p>Something in Gavin’s chest tightened.</p><p>He didn’t know what to do about it.</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks</p><p>Within his bending sickle’s compass come;</p><p>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,</p><p>But bears it out even to the edge of doom.</p><p>— (9-12)</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>A week went by uncharacteristically smooth.</p><p>Nines wasn’t getting on Gavin’s nerves, and Gavin was letting the android take care of him, so the human thought it was a win-win situation.</p><p>Gavin didn’t know what it was like to live with an android, but he realized he should’ve expected things to be neat and tidy, books all lined up, and silverware in place. (He wasn’t sure what androids even used it for, but Nines had it.)</p><p>It was nothing like Gavin’s childhood home that it almost made him laugh, but it hurt to laugh, so he tried to keep that to a minimum nowadays.</p><p>Whenever Gavin wheeled past a row of polished, silver picture frames, the old, expensive ones you see in old TV shows, Gavin felt an ache in his chest, and it wasn’t because of the three healing ribs. His mother, who’d gotten two jobs for the sole purpose of never being around their father, had had very little time for intricate, time-consuming things like taking pictures, and then printing them, and then putting them into individual frames.</p><p>Gavin knew that if he still talked to her, he might send her a picture of the frames, just to get a laugh out of her.</p><p>“You keep looking at those,” Nines said, leaning against the doorframe that opened up to the kitchen. “Do you want one? I got them at an antique store a while ago, right after the revolution. But to be honest, I’m not even sure if there’re anymore like it.”</p><p>“Okay, Humble Brag,” Gavin said with a gentle scoff. He wheeled himself back so he could look up at Nines. “Who’re the people in the photos? Anyone I’d know?”</p><p>“Well, you already know Hank and Connor,” Nines said, gesturing to a few of the photos. “I took those while I was living with them. Anyway, you must be talking about the people you’ve never seen before. And, well, they’re just androids I befriended and . . . never really spoke to again. I met them at bars and stuff. I slept with this one.” Nines pointed to a handsome-looking android and then peeked at Gavin.</p><p>Gavin refused to believe it was a pointed look. “Wait,” he said. “You barely knew these people?”</p><p>“Yes, why? Is that bad?”</p><p>Gavin smirked, mostly to himself. “The way I grew up, you only put special people in these kinds of frames.” At Nines’s falling face, Gavin quickly added, “But I think what you’re doing is a fresh take on the whole frame thing. I think people should cherish the brief moments in their lives too, y’know?”</p><p>Something amused flashed across Nines’s expression. “Now <em>you</em> sound like a slam poet, Gavin. You know, I happen to have a few copies of Shakespeare’s plays, though they’re the lesser-known ones . . . But I do have <em>Richard III.”</em></p><p>Before Gavin could even think about his next words, he groaned and then asked, “Ugh, do you only have the tragedies?” The detective paused in the following silence, feeling like he’d just revealed a bit too much about himself, but when he glanced up at Nines, the android was thinking thoroughly, a hand on his chin.</p><p>“Let’s see . . . Right now, I’m cycling through my library,” he said. “I keep track of all the books I buy by digitizing them.”</p><p>“Oh, like a normal person.”</p><p>Nines smirked. “Yes, like a normal person. Anyway, I have <em>A Midsummer Night’s Dream</em> and <em>Romeo and Juliet.</em> Oh, and <em>Macbeth,</em> but that’s not really a romance. At least, not in the way some people would expect.”</p><p>Gavin narrowed his eyes as he tried to fight a smile. “I’m listening.”</p><p>For the first time in a while, Gavin got to put his English degree to use. He would’ve sooner, but the people in his life who’d teased him for it had left little scars, and the reminders had always kept Gavin quiet about, well, a lot of things.</p><p>That, or he got easily mad at others when they pried for information.</p><p>And while Gavin, a grown-ass adult, realized that it was normal to want to know more about others, he’d grown to find a stranger’s interest in him as tactile, as if they were looking for weaknesses.</p><p>Now, Gavin wasn’t stupid.</p><p>He was self-aware about his own faults. And even though the first time he’d gone to therapy it’d been mandated by Fowler, Gavin had decided to keep up with it (because why not?). Somedays, it made the detective angrier, but he knew his therapist wasn’t doing it on purpose. And, besides, it wasn’t anything a quick run after their sessions couldn’t fix.</p><p>Having lost track of time, Gavin was surprised when he blinked and looked outside of one of the living room windows, realizing it was pitch-black.</p><p>They’d started watching a film adaptation of <em>Macbeth</em> (the one directed by Kurzel in 2015) because they had nothing but time on their hands. Gavin had desperately tried to keep his enthusiasm curbed, but he’d occasionally paused the movie to point certain things out to Nines.</p><p>“Wow, that was good,” Nines said once the credits started to roll. “I didn’t know you were also a film buff.”</p><p>Gavin quietly laughed through his nose. He’d moved from the wheelchair to the couch for the movie, so he and Nines were only a few feet apart.</p><p>“Not really,” Gavin said, glancing at the android. Even though it was dark, he could still make out the android’s curious expression. “I just liked this one a lot. And there’s a film adaption of Shakespeare’s King Henry plays . . . The one with Timothée Chalamet. We should definitely watch that one next.” Gavin yawned and then stretched carefully, making sure he didn’t move his ribs that much.</p><p>A bit of silence stretched on between them, and Gavin wanted to fill it up with something, but he was so comfortable, and he didn’t particularly feel like ruining the moment. It was warm in Nines’s house, and because Gavin was under a blanket, he currently felt beyond cozy — and tired.</p><p>When he glanced at the android again, Nines was full-on staring at him.</p><p>“What?” Gavin asked, eyelids feeling heavy. “Something on my face?”</p><p>The detective looked over the android. Even though they’d already spent a significant amount of time with each other, Gavin was still surprised by the android’s casual clothes. On previous days, the android had opted for joggers and a sweatshirt, but today, he was wearing loose pajama shorts and a random sweater. Nines had also uncharacteristically left his hair a little messy, and while Gavin knew that androids couldn’t be tired, everything about Nines was screaming “cozy” and “sleepy.”</p><p>Gavin blinked.</p><p>He wasn’t sure why he’d just described his android colleague as “cozy.” After all, he was plastic and metal — the antithesis of “cozy.”</p><p>“No, nothing’s on your face,” Nines said, offering a quick smile. He brought his legs up so he could sit on them, and then he readjusted his blanket so that it came up to his neck. “I’m just looking at you.”</p><p>Gavin recalled Nines’s words from two weeks ago.</p><p>
  <em>“Did you know that humans look at the things they like because it’s an instinct?”</em>
</p><p>“Oh,” was all Gavin said. “That’s . . . cool.” He mentally screamed at himself because why the <em>fuck</em> would he say something like that?</p><p>
  <em>“They enjoy looking at things for as long as possible because, over time, it’s possible to forget the face of a loved one. Or the way the sky looked on a special night.”</em>
</p><p>Gavin really didn’t expect himself to have an existential crisis over an android, especially because he’d hated their guts just a year ago. But there he was, having an existential crisis because of Nines, because the android was looking at him with the softest expression Gavin had ever received — from any human or android, and that included members of his own family.</p><p>“I — I think I’m gonna sleep,” Gavin said. If his voice cracked a bit, he didn’t acknowledge it, and Nines didn’t say anything about it either. “I can sleep here, right? I won’t roll over in the middle of the night and fuck up my ribs?”</p><p>Nines scoffed gently. “No, you’ll be fine. I’ll be here. If that’s okay with you.”</p><p>“. . . Yeah,” Gavin said, yawning again. “No biggie. Night.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Gavin.”</p><p>Gavin got himself comfortable and tried to ignore the fact that for the first time in a while, he felt nervous.</p><p>When Nines turned the TV off, Gavin was glad for the complete darkness. He liked looking off, letting his eyes relax to the sight of nothing.</p><p>And as Gavin got comfortable, his mind wandered. He was in his mid-thirties, and he’d had his fair share of relationships. Even though they’d been quick and generally sparkless, they’d been enough to make him feel like he’d been doing something right with his life.</p><p>Because TV sitcoms had raised Gavin, and the one significant thing adults did was get in relationships with others.</p><p>The detective swallowed thickly, choosing to ignore the way his mind had jumped to memories of his past relationships.</p><p>Nines was a colleague, and an android no less, and his decision to take care of Gavin for two-ish months was just that — a decision. And Nines had put it succinctly earlier: he wanted to bring one of his best colleagues back to work feeling better than ever.</p><p>Gavin closed his eyes and then nodded to himself, nuzzling the side of his face into the soft fabric of the blanket. And that was how he fell asleep.</p><hr/><p>Gavin had gotten so used to the silence of Nines’s house (so unlike his apartment) that when the detective woke up to a <em>bang,</em> it scared him more than it should’ve.</p><p><em>A lot</em> more than it should’ve.</p><p>Gavin’s eyes flew open, and then he braced himself, but he’d forgotten about not tensing his upper torso, so agony flared up like molten lava. Gavin was usually never vocal about pain because he had a high tolerance for it, but the sudden movement and subsequent pain had forced small, pathetic-sounding whimpers from his throat.</p><p><em>This is </em>not<em> me.</em></p><p>“Fuck,” he said, blinking furiously. His eyes were stinging with tears, and after having been roused from a deep sleep, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was again.</p><p>“Gavin?” Nines asked, appearing soundlessly around the corner.</p><p>Gavin flinched. When the detective couldn’t find his voice because he’d been struggling to catch his breath, he simply shook his head and then held up a shaky hand.</p><p>“Oh no,” Nines breathed, quickly crossing the room. He was wearing jeans, boots, and his sweater from last night. “I’m so sorry, Gavin. The wind slammed the door shut before I could stop it.”</p><p>“It’s — It’s fine,” Gavin said, wishing he could mask his physiological reactions. Alas, he couldn’t do that in front of an android. And for the life of him, he couldn’t stop taking in lungfuls of air (because of the sudden panic), but now, said lungfuls of air were making his chest ache — made him feel like he was splitting open. “I’m sorry — I can’t—”</p><p>
  <em>I can’t breathe.</em>
</p><p>“It would appear that you’re experiencing a panic attack,” Nines said matter-of-factly, crouching by Gavin’s legs. The android went to put a hand on the detective’s thigh but paused. “May I touch you? Or will that make it worse?”</p><p>Gavin felt like he was hearing the android’s words from underwater. He wanted to believe he didn’t look like a scared, little thing, desperate for help, but that was probably how he looked to the android right now — and on top of the anxiety, it made him angry.</p><p>Gavin had always resented himself for not having a grip on these kinds of things, but at the very least, he’d been able to deal with them alone.</p><p>But now that he was in front of another being, even if it was an android?</p><p>Gavin wanted to crawl into a hole and die.</p><p>“Gavin?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure, whatever the fuck you wanna do,” the detective said, leaning back. He threw an arm over his face and tried to breathe in through his nose. Gavin heard the android move, and when he peeked down, Nines was sitting on the coffee table in front of him, knees on either side of his own.</p><p>Gavin had half a mind to realize the android was close, closer than he should’ve been, but for some reason, Gavin’s brain was freaking out at the close proximity.</p><p>Nines reached out and then held Gavin’s thighs, startling him a bit.</p><p>“So, do you wanna talk about it?” Nines asked.</p><p>Gavin laughed weakly, feeling a bit dizzy. “No. Not really.” He thought he felt bile in the back of his throat; he almost laughed again at the thought of throwing up on the android.</p><p>Gavin peeked out from behind his arm and swallowed thickly. “It would— If you could just — not look at me. That would be great.”</p><p>Nines’s brows furrowed in concern, but he closed his eyes. “You know,” he started slowly, “it helps to name things when you have a panic attack. Can you name something for me?”</p><p>Gavin couldn’t keep the venom out of his voice when he said, “You sound like you’re babying me.”</p><p>“There’s nothing immature about a panic attack,” Nines said. Even though his eyes were closed, he raised his brows for emphasis.</p><p>Gavin pursed his lips. Now that he was sure Nines wouldn’t open his eyes, he let a few tears out, blinking. Gavin took a few shuddering breaths before he finally said, “Um. Your sweater. It’s beige. It’s probably soft.”</p><p>In the silence that followed, Gavin growled softly.</p><p>“I don’t do this shit, Nines.”</p><p>“Just keep going. To humor me?”</p><p>Gavin rubbed at his eyes before saying, “Uh . . . I don’t know. I smell sweet cologne. I think.”</p><p>The right side of Nines’s mouth quirked up. His thumbs started moving against Gavin’s sweatpants. The detective watched them intently.</p><p>Even though there was still a lump in his throat, Gavin said, “Okay. I’m done with this. No more panic. I’ve declared it.”</p><p>Nines opened his eyes at that, giving his colleague an admonishing look. “You can’t just declare your panic attack over.”</p><p>“I just did,” Gavin said. He didn’t make a move to get rid of Nines’s hands. Tears were still rapidly falling down his face, and even though the pain was ebbing in his chest, his head started to feel numb, like it was full of cotton.</p><p>When Gavin caught the android’s worried gaze again, they simply stared at each other.</p><p>Logically, Gavin knew that the android’s look of concern was just that, but he couldn’t stop his mind from twisting it into something nasty. Couldn’t stop himself from thinking that the android was making fun of him, was pitying him.</p><p>That Nines thought he was weak.</p><p><em>Get a fucking grip,</em> Gavin thought to himself furiously. <em>It’s not that deep.</em></p><p>But Gavin didn’t feel like battling the demons that day, didn’t feel like fortifying his last few good thoughts that were swimming in shark-infested waters. So he pushed Nines’s hands away and then pulled the blanket back up.</p><p>“I’m gonna nap it off,” he said, screwing his eyes shut. “Wake me up in an hour.”</p><hr/><p>Another day came and went, and it was unusually uneventful because Gavin shunned the android away at any opportunity. But after dinner, Nines stood at the entrance to the living room and then put his hands on his hips.</p><p>“Listen, Gavin,” he started sternly, “I have to bathe you.”</p><p>Gavin looked up from his laptop, blinking. “I’m sorry, what?”</p><p>“I have to bathe you.”</p><p>“No, I heard that,” Gavin said, closing his laptop. “I mean— What’re you talking about? I’ve been giving myself sponge baths. And I don’t think I want you to see me naked, not really.” Gavin was thankful the android didn’t comment on the way he’d just phrased that.</p><p>“Come on,” Nines said, trying to sound encouraging. “It’ll be—”</p><p>“Don’t say ‘fun.’”</p><p>That made the android smile, and for some reason, Gavin was glad to see him smiling again.</p><p>“I was going to say ‘worth it,’” Nines said, approaching him. “Now, come on. You can change into trunks or something, but this has to happen. And remember, I downloaded a good chunk of healthcare stuff, so I’d be giving you a clinical, no funny business bath.”</p><p>Gavin pursed his lips but acquiesced. He got upstairs with help from the android, and when Nines started pushing Gavin toward the master room, the detective panicked.</p><p>“Where—?”</p><p>“My bathroom is bigger,” Nines said casually. “Besides, I never use it, so this is a great excuse to do so. Well, except for when I come home from work dirty. Like that time we chased that perp through one of those neon paint clubs.”</p><p>Gavin smiled at the memory. “That was a <em>bitch.</em> I was cleaning paint out of my hair for weeks after that.”</p><p>When they got into the bathroom, Gavin wasn’t surprised by the white simplicity of everything. Nines gave him swimming trunks to change into, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, Gavin changed into them by himself.</p><p>Nines started a bath, and then they waited for it to fill up in silence.</p><p>Well, almost.</p><p>“I’m sorry if I pushed you yesterday,” Nines piped up. He kept his eyes on the water.</p><p>Gavin gathered his thoughts before he said, “It’s fine, Nines. Really. I’m a bitch to help in those kinds of situations anyway. Logic flies out the window if y’know what I mean.” He chuckled a little nervously.</p><p>The android glanced at Gavin, gray eyes as bright as ever.</p><p>“I sometimes . . . feel like I experience something similar,” Nines said, pursing his lips in thought. “Not to your extent, but . . . I’m not sure what to call it. Androids are always in one state or the other. They’re either functioning or malfunctioning, but the way my mind palace has been working lately . . . I feel like I’m going through deviancy again. My programming feels like a mess, but it’s not, and I keep second-guessing a lot of things.”</p><p>Gavin’s brows shot up. “I wasn’t expecting that.”</p><p>“What part?”</p><p>“Any of it.” Gavin grinned, trying to lighten the mood. The android returned the gesture. “I hate it when people tell me this, but you should talk to someone about that,” Gavin said. “Isn’t there, like, therapy for androids?”</p><p>Nines full-on grinned, shaking his head. The sight made Gavin’s breath hitch.</p><p>“There actually is,” the android said slowly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I’m nervous. Which is hilarious because CyberLife programmed me to be steadfast in anything I do.” Nines paused to turn the water off. “Sometimes, I wonder if deviancy was a good idea. Or if I could have half of it.”</p><p>“What?” Gavin jerked back. “Really?”</p><p>Nines hummed and then stood. He gestured to the bath, and Gavin got in with a little help, keeping his left shin out of the water because it was still in a cast. But as soon as he could relax, Gavin groaned softly, enjoying the hot water just a little too much.</p><p>“Deviancy is weird,” Nines said bluntly, making Gavin grin. The android caught it and then smiled, expression softening. “For someone like Connor, it happened naturally. But for me, it was sudden. It was like being splashed with cold water. I’ll never regret deviating because this new life is wonderful, but . . . I’m not the only one who feels like I was dropkicked into consciousness.”</p><p>Gavin snorted. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected. “I guess I can . . . kind of relate.”</p><p>And then Gavin paused, wondering if he should elaborate or not. He figured he’d known Nines long enough to know that the android wouldn’t turn around and use personal information against him, but . . .</p><p>No.</p><p>Gavin could share just a bit.</p><p>And it would be okay. (He internally groaned, thinking of his therapist. She’d be proud.)</p><p>“Well, hmm, how do I put this . . ?” Gavin trailed off, looking everywhere but the android. “Uh, well, I can relate to the consciousness thing, but it’s a little different. I actually think it’s nice that you guys get a fresh start. For someone like me, we just . . . live with the things we’ve done. The things people did to us.” At Nines’s concerned look, Gavin quickly added, “Nothing too terrible happened to me. Just a shitty family and a shitty father. Typical bad-ending nuclear family shit.” Gavin smiled at his own wording.</p><p>“Then I suppose we’re two halves,” Nines said, sounding way too optimistic about the situation. “I’m upset with my lack of past and unnervingly open future. And you’re upset about your past, that of which seems to be inhibiting your future.”</p><p>If anyone else but Nines had said that to Gavin, he would’ve sucker-punched their ass into next week, including past therapists.</p><p>But because it was Nines, Gavin smirked. “Yeah, well, that’s what therapy’s for. I guess.”</p><p>As Nines grabbed some shampoo, he kneeled by the side of the bath. He mock-gasped, making Gavin roll his eyes.</p><p>“Gavin Reed? In therapy?” Nines’s brows shot up. “I must be short-circuiting.”</p><p>“Shut up and gimme the damn shampoo.”</p><p>As Nines helped Gavin with his bath, they chatted about everything under the sun, even about Connor and Hank, Tina, and her wife, Miriro. When Gavin playfully splashed Nines after a joke, the android reeled back and spluttered, wiping at his face.</p><p>And unfortunately, Gavin’s heart jumped up into his throat.</p><p>He reasoned that he was getting too old for relationships, that he couldn’t see one with Nines because they never would’ve worked out anyway.</p><p>But the more the android laughed and joked, the more he responded to Gavin’s wit with his own sharp responses, the more Gavin felt like this was . . . natural.</p><p>And then existential dread hit him because, well, he hadn’t done this in a while — this being romance — and he was prone to overthinking things, and rushing things, as he’d rushed through a lot in his life just to get to the freedom of adulthood, and he just—</p><p>Gavin forced himself to focus on the now, even if he couldn’t stop his runaway train of thought.</p><p>Because to be honest, he didn’t want to miss a second of this.</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>If this be error and upon me prov’d,</p><p>I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.</p><p>— (13-14)</p><hr/>
<hr/><p>The next couple of weeks went by in a blur. Connor, Hank, Tina, and Miriro had stopped by on a couple of nights for dinner and whatnot, and even though Gavin felt a little rusty with his social skills, he managed to get through them.</p><p>Nines said it was good to talk to people besides himself, and even though Gavin knew the android was right, he’d felt the need to disagree with him — but hadn’t realized from where the disagreement had even come. So most days, because Gavin was dealing with the internal crisis of finding Nines more and more interesting (and by interesting, he meant attractive — fuck), he kept his mouth shut and tried to stick to their basic schedule.</p><p>The night that threw them both for a loop, however, was when Gavin had a nightmare and woke up — and Nines was already sitting on the edge of his bed, looking eager to help in any way that he could. Gavin felt an ache in his chest, and he knew it wasn’t because of his ribs because the feeling echoed the previous one a few weeks prior.</p><p>It was storming outside, and even though Gavin wasn’t cold, he clutched the sheets by his face, staring at the android and waiting for him to do something.</p><p>“Your heart rate’s high,” Nines said quietly. “Are you still scared?”</p><p>“They don’t scare me as much as they used to,” Gavin said back, voice barely audible over the rain and thunder. “Your house being quiet helps out a lot.”</p><p>Nines furrowed his brows and then reached out — but paused.</p><p>Gavin glanced from the android’s hand to his face, hoping he wouldn’t have to ask for his touch. They’d been getting comfortable and familiar with each other over the past couple of weeks, and Gavin would be lying if he said didn’t look forward to their casual touches. (Fuck, he sounded like a high school girl in a shitty rom-com.)</p><p>Nines’s hand cupped the side of Gavin’s face, rousing him from his thoughts.</p><p>
  <a href="https://shae-c-art.tumblr.com/">  </a>
</p><p>Gavin glanced at Nines’s wrist and then up at his face, which was barely distinguishable in the dark.</p><p><em>I can have this good thing, right?</em> Gavin thought wildly to himself. <em>Right?</em></p><p>“I don’t think I properly thanked you for saving my life,” Nines said, searching Gavin’s face.</p><p>“You took me in. That’s thanks enough.”</p><p>“I <em>want</em> to say thank you,” Nines said. “Those bullets were meant for me, so you risked your life to keep my . . . entire being and programming from being annihilated. I was . . . so worried about the drug getting into your system that I ripped the bullets out before I could even think . . . No one’s ever stuck themselves out like that for me, so . . . Thank you, Gavin.”</p><p>Nines’s hand on Gavin’s cheek felt like a brand, but in the best way possible.</p><p>Gavin swallowed thickly and then reached up to graze his fingers along the android’s wrist. “You’re welcome,” he breathed. “Now, help me sit up.”</p><p>Nines smirked at the command but did as Gavin asked, and when they were face to face, Gavin grabbed the android’s hand and put it back on his cheek. Nines raised a brow, surprised.</p><p>“You had a thing for me since before I liked androids,” Gavin said, licking his teeth. “What gives? You some masochist?”</p><p>Nines threw his head back and started laughing, making Gavin jump.</p><p>“Only <em>you</em> would bring it up like that,” Nines said, narrowing his eyes at the human. Realizing Gavin wanted him to say something else, he added, “Yeah. Sure. Call me a masochist.”</p><p>“So, you like me?”</p><p>“I didn’t say that, now, did I?”</p><p>“Oh, shut the fuck up. You’re such a bitch.”</p><p>Nines’s grin split his face in two. “Maybe I should back out now. While I’m still of sound mind.”</p><p>Gavin narrowed his eyes, trying not to smile and failing miserably. He was about to say something witty, but he stopped short, mind wandering down a different path. His smile faltered. “We’re . . . This is okay, right? Androids and humans?”</p><p>“Well, I suppose,” Nines said, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not illegal, but I know that’s not what you’re asking about. Hmm. Let’s see . . . I like you because you remind me of all the things humans can be and what light I should bring to my own life. Now, your turn. Why do you like me? What makes you think this’ll work out?”</p><p>Gavin’s body temperature spiked as he blushed. “I must still be dreamin’,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. “This isn’t a fuckin’ interview, ‘kay?” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Wow. We just did that, didn’t we? Seems a little anticlimactic, to be honest. I don’t know why, though. It’s not like we’re in some Shakespearean romance, and I—”</p><p>Nines leaned forward with a cocked brow and kissed Gavin’s still-moving mouth.</p><p>Gavin froze, eyes wide open.</p><p>When the android pulled away, he stayed close, and for once, Gavin felt like his gray, searching eyes were affectionate. They weren’t searching for weaknesses or looking for some other, nefarious purpose. It was the first time in a while that Gavin <em>liked</em> being perceived, and he wondered, briefly, if this is what normal people felt like on a regular basis.</p><p>Because if so, he could get used to feeling like this.</p><hr/><p>Once the two months were up, Gavin started a bit of physical therapy and was put on desk duty until he got the all-clear. When he’d moved back into his apartment, he was surprised to find that his noisy neighbors had moved out, so Gavin slept better in his bed than he had in years.</p><p>The feds also picked up Michael de la Cruz during a raid, and even though Gavin couldn’t be a part of it, he was glad he was finally in custody.</p><p>And everyone in the office knew that something had happened between Gavin and Nines because even though they argued just like before, there was something else to it (the affectionate looks were a big giveaway, apparently).</p><p>A few weeks after New Year’s, Gavin came into work to find an envelope on his desk. When he looked up, Nines waltzed into view, beaming with anticipation.</p><p>“What?” Gavin asked, holding up the envelope. “Did you put anthrax in here?”</p><p>Nines rolled his eyes. “Just open it.”</p><p>Gavin put his bag down but did so, and he pulled out . . . “Two tickets to a <em>Macbeth</em> play. Oh.” He wished he could stop himself from blushing. “Thanks, Nines.”</p><p>“Wait, come here,” Nines said, gesturing to his own desk. “I’ll show you the stage on my computer.”</p><p>When they got to the android’s desk, Nines babbled about the theater, but Gavin wasn’t paying attention. He was standing behind Nines’s chair, holding the back of it, and while he should’ve been looking at the screen, he wasn’t.</p><p>Gavin couldn’t take his eyes away from the small, silver frame Nines had brought into work to put on his desk. And the picture inside of it was of Gavin, holding up the remote to pause <em>Macbeth</em> so that he could rant about it to Nines for a second.</p><p>Gavin smiled for the rest of the day, and he let his android boyfriend think it was because of the tickets.</p><p>They were part of the reason, but Gavin couldn’t stop thinking about how he was now picture-frame-worthy.</p><p>Sure, Gavin knew that deep down, before he’d ever met Nines or liked androids, that he was picture-frame-worthy. But knowing that someone else saw him that way, that someone wanted him in a frame, made the feeling all that much lighter and warmer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated. &lt;3 And I hope you guys liked this! It definitely felt a bit more serious than my other works, but I think it's something you can cozy up to, idk!</p><p>|<a href="https://linktr.ee/cass1997">my linktree to everything</a>|</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>